They All Lived Story 61: Unprepared
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: May '78-Feb '80 Life gets quickly complicated for newly married Urey Elric, and as family drama unfolds, Edward steps in with his own experiences in the hopes of avoiding repeats of past mistakes.
1. Chapter 1

**May 28****th****, 1978**

Urey Elric and Cayla Evans were married in Resembool after graduating from East City University. The beautiful late spring day was as idyllic as the couple could have hoped for, not that they seemed to notice much outside each other. Seven months of engagement had not dimmed their absolute adoration of each other, but enhanced it. Cayla was feeling far better than she had been during their fall visit, and the couple danced every dance at the reception.

Edward was glad he wouldn't have to share a house with the newlyweds. He and Winry had housed the majority of the out-of-town wedding guests, so Urey and Cayla would be staying two nights at Aldon and Cassie's before leaving for their honeymoon.

"They look so happy," Winry smiled softly beside him as she watched the couple dancing.

"They do," Ed agreed. "For both their sakes, I hope their lives are easier than they look like they will be."

"Killjoy."

"Sorry." Ed slipped his arm around Winry's waist. "I really hope her health stays good. I wish them all the health and happiness in the world."

"They'll be fine," Winry assured him. "If anything else, those times will make them stronger."

"Like us?" Ed smiled at his wife.

Winry rested her head against his shoulder. "Just like us."

SCENE BREAK SCENE BREAK SCENE BREAK

Urey didn't believe in magic, but if he did, he would have believed that was brought him and Cayla together. From the first time they had actually made eye contact, his entire world seemed framed by her hair, centered on her eyes, and everything existed only so long as she was by his side.

As she was now, cradled in his arms, the silky softness of her skin nearly indistinguishably from the thin pale blue satin of her nightgown. His wife; his to love, and cherish, and protect for the rest of their lives. How he had been given such a kind, gentle spirit he still couldn't fathom. All Urey knew was he was luckiest man in the universe.

"How do you feel?" he asked in little more than a whisper. He had done his best, despite his own inexperience, to be gentle.

"Mmm… wonderful," Cayla smiled at him. "Stronger, if that's possible."

"Must be our love." Urey kissed her, and rolled back to his side to gather her to him. "You are my everything. I can't imagine anything we could want more. Can you?"

He felt a hint of surprise when Cayla's face flushed, and she nodded. "Just… one thing."

"What?" he asked curiously. "Whatever it is, I'll get. Or if we can't buy it, I'll be it. What do you want, Cayla? It's yours, you know that."

His wife looked away, clearly embarrassed, and snuggled against him. "I'd like… a baby."

_A what! _Urey felt an instinctive shudder run through him. He'd just gotten Cayla. He had hoped that they might have some time alone before they had children. Time to enjoy being with each other, and to finalize settling into jobs and a home in Central. Well, she hadn't said it had to be immediately. "Sure," he replied. "We can do that."

Her bright, pale blue eyes darted upward, her gaze locking him in place as she smiled in startled delight. "You really are the best husband ever." Then she locked her lips with his and they did not speak again for quite some time.

**June 2****nd****, 1978**

Urey awoke feeling refreshed and eager. Today he and Cayla would be leaving Resembool for their honeymoon trip. They had planned a trip North, to a little resort town outside North City, where they could enjoy the slightly cooler weather and the scenery. The town was also known for a delightful midsummer faire they threw, and Cayla had told him she had always wanted to go. Naturally that had decided Urey at once; it sounded like fun to him too.

"Cayla… sweetheart," he shook her shoulder gently with one hand. "It's time to get up."

She made a soft mumbling noise, and buried further in the covers.

Urey smiled. "Come on. We can't miss the train." He pulled the sheet back enough to kiss her forehead… and stopped cold. She felt awfully warm. _Not again. Please not again. _"Cayla, honey, wake up."

This time there was a gentle grunt. "Sleepy," she sighed without opening her eyes.

"All right, all right." Urey tried to keep calm. There was no need to panic. She'd had fevers before, even if the last one had been back before winter holiday. "You rest. I'll get a thermometer and just check your temperature."

Getting out of bed, Urey pulled on a t-shirt so he wasn't just in shorts and hurried out of the downstairs bedroom they were sharing at his parents' house. He padded down the hallway into the bathroom, and opened the medicine cabinet.

"Something wrong?"

He nearly dropped the thermometer in surprise. Urey turned and saw his mother standing in the doorway. "It's Cayla," he blurted out. "She's got a fever."

"Let me take a look." His mother took the thermometer right out of his hands, and he followed her back down the hall. The only thing he could do then was stand out of the way and try not to fidget too much with worry as his mother checked Cayla's temperature, and then her breathing, her pulse, and looked in her eyes. Cayla was quiet for the most part, though she made small objection noises when Urey helped roll her on her back so his mother could do her work properly.

"Well?"

"Calm down, Urey." Cassie straightened up. "It's not a very high fever, but she should stay in bed. You told me she always keeps medicine."

"Oh, right!" In his panic, Urey had entirely forgotten. He made a quick run back to the bathroom, and returned with the small bottle that Cayla had told him was the treatment her family doctor had prescribed. "Here they are."

His mother took the bottle and looked at it. "This should do the trick," she nodded. "Get a glass of water, Urey, and a compress. There are cold ones in the refrigerator."

"There are?"

"For when your father does something foolish in his workshop."

Urey fetched the water, and the compress, and then once Cayla had drunk down her first dose of medicine, he settled in beside her to wait, his heart pounding, his thoughts for her safety, and he worried.

He didn't move when his mother called the family for lunch. He wasn't hungry. Urey tried to get a few spoonfuls of broth into Cayla, but he met with minimal success. He was lucky to get water into her, and her next dose of medicine.

The day dragged into early evening before Cayla actually woke. Her fever hadn't broken, but Urey had never been so grateful to see eyes open. "There you are," he smiled weakly. "I've been waiting all day."

"All day?" Cayla looked confused, then horrified. "Urey… what about the train?"

"Shhh." He straightened the cold compress that tried to slip off her forehead. "It's all can change our tickets. We'll go when you're better."

"Are you sure that's all right?"

"Of course it is." He squeezed her hand so very gently, not wanting to tell her how much she had scared him. "We have all the time in the world. You rest and get better. It wouldn't be any fun if you couldn't enjoy it."

Cayla smiled. "Thank you, Urey."

He caressed her hand again. "I love you."

**June 9****th****, 1978**

Urey could not remember a longer week. Cayla's fever rose and fell, it came so close to breaking, then would spike unexpectedly. It never rose to levels his mother considered dangerous, but it refused to go away. Her last one had lasted only two days and it had been enough to leave him frazzled. This was so much worse.

It was the middle of the day, a full week later, when her fever finally went away. Urey cradled Cayla, and carried her into the bath, and helped her wash, and dry, and get into a clean nightgown. "There, is that better?" he asked attentively as he got her comfortable, sitting up with a pile of pillows to support her.

"Much better, thank you." Cayla smiled. "Your mother said it was almost lunch time. What are we having?"

"Vegetable soup," said Urey. "As soon as Doctor Lalman comes and has a look at you again." The doctor, one of the four now working at the Resembool hospital, was a specialist whose area of expertise included illnesses like hers. She had come to see Cayla twice in the past week already.

The visit was reasonably brief. "There appears to be no lasting harm from the fever itself," Doctor Lalman finally proclaimed. "However travel is out of the question for the time being."

The trip had been the furthest thing from Urey's mind, but Cayla had asked anyway. He gave her hand a comforting squeeze at the look of disappointment on her face. "There's time," he promised. "We'll have a good time here. It's all right. Someday we'll get there."

Cayla smiled. "You're right. We will."

**July 13****th****, 1978**

Urey was feeling the most relaxed he had since the wedding as he strolled back up to the house with Reichart, their catch of the day – nine fat trout- hanging from sticks and ready for grilling. They would make a great feast. Or at least, for everyone who ate fish. Urey felt guilty about looking forward to something Cayla couldn't eat, but she had insisted that he go with his brother today and have fun, even though she was tired –fine, she insisted, just tired- and that if he helped catch anything, he should be able to eat it. With her insistence, he was determined to look forward to a well-cooked trout.

"That last one was really a fight," Reichart grinned as they stomped up the hill behind the house. They went in the back way to avoid dragging muck into the rest of the house. Urey was just kicking his boots off in the back hall when he heard the sound of violent retching in the bathroom.

"Who's that?" Reichart asked.

Urey's stomach dropped through the floor. Horror filled him. He'd never heard her vomit, but he'd heard everyone else in the house at one point or another, and it was coming from downstairs. He broke into a run in the hallway and nearly flew right past the open door of the downstairs bathroom. "Cayla?" he gasped, as he took in the bathroom, his wife leaning over the toilet, and his mother standing there, giving him a wide eyed look of consternation.

Cayla was wiping her mouth on a hand towel as she straightened, though she looked just as surprised to see him.

Urey took a deep breath at the utter lack of urgency in either of their faces. He was over-reacting… over… reacting. "What's wrong?" he asked, trying to sound calm.

Cayla giggled, as softly as ever. "You should see your face, Urey."

"Yeah, well, I think I have a right to be concerned when you're sick," he replied irritably.

"For once," his mother said calmly as she stepped around her daughter-in-law, "she's not sick."

What? "But she…"

Reichart's hand clapped him on the shoulder from behind. "Didn't take you long, did it little brother?"

"What?" Confused, Urey looked to Cayla for the answer.

She seemed to take pity on him, as she smiled shyly. "Urey, we're having a baby."

SCENE BREAK SCENE BREAK SCENE BREAK

Aldon waited until Cayla had gone to bed to talk to Urey, who had spent the rest of the day in a bit of a daze. "Son, can we talk?" he asked after Ted and Callie had gone upstairs and Cassie upstairs working on a painting at his suggestion. After that afternoon's revelation, Aldon had suggested she unwind. He had a feeling she might be painting all night.

"What? Sure." Urey blinked, and stood up.

"Let's go outside." Aldon let the way out. It was far from dark yet, being summer. He just started walking, letting his feet carry him down the drive until they were far enough from the house not to be heard. "I noticed you seem a little… surprised about this whole thing," he began.

Urey shrugged. "I thought it would take a little longer. Are you going to tell me Coran wasn't a surprise?" he added irritably.

"Well, no." Aldon leaned back against the old stone wall, resting his elbows on top. "I was just hoping the two of you had thought this through."

"Look, Dad, I know Cayla's health isn't great, but she really wants children." Urey remained standing. "Usually she's fine for months at a time, and when she asked Doctor Lalman, she said it ought to be possible. It's risky, but it's always risky. Cayla wants this more than anything else in the world."

"Your mother is concerned."

"Mom is always concerned," Urey frowned. "But Cayla can handle it."

"What are you going to do about work?" Aldon asked. "There's no way you can take care of her in Central all day and work for the State."

"We'll stay here for now," Urey replied, almost too quickly. "I'll find a job here. You won't have to support us. I'll work whenever someone can be home with Cayla. Then, when the baby comes, and she's okay to travel and work, we'll go to Central. I know it won't pay as much right now as I'd be making there, but this isn't about money."

"No, it's not," Aldon agreed. And it was too late to say they thought it wasn't a good idea. Cayla was already pregnant. "But I'm hearing a lot of 'Cayla wants this.' What about you, Urey?"

Urey looked shaken for a moment before he frowned at him. "Of course, I do," he replied. "It's just a little bit of a shock, and I'm worried too, just like you are."

"Right." Aldon didn't push the subject anymore. He was sure Cassie would have plenty to say over the next few months. He'd already heard a private rant upon getting home about irresponsibility, foolishness, it being far too soon and a terrible time for them to be starting a family… he hoped Cassie calmed down by the time he went in. "Well, congratulations." He offered Urey a reassuring smile. "For what it's worth, I think Cayla will be fine with you to take care of her, and I think you'll make a good father."

Urey's defensive stance lessened. "Thanks, Dad. Right now, given the looks Mom's been giving me, I get the feeling I'm not currently her favorite son."


	2. Chapter 2

**December 24****th****, 1978**

The winter holidays in Resembool were quieter than some years. Due to various work schedules, it was mostly Ed's side of the family that came down for the holidays. Alphonse and Elicia stayed in Central since Ethan took off, which kept Ren in Central with the practice, and Cal couldn't get the time off for travel.

While Ed missed his brother, he was glad to have Sara and Ethan's families in his house for the holidays, including extended family. Trisha and Roy had come down with Rosa, who was now a two year old bundle of exploratory energy. James, now eighteen, looked a bit different with his officers-school military regulation haircut and glasses. He actually reminded Ed of photos of Franz at that age. In between them all, Ethan's children were sprouting and blossoming in their own rights. Eamon and Lily, like Callie, had just celebrated their thirteenth birthdays, and Ed had already heard Ethan and Aldon conspiring on how to keep boys away from their beautiful daughters. Aeddan was six-and-a-half, and into everything he could get his hands on, unless he had his nose in a book. Lia highly encouraged the books. So far Aeddan had shown a keen interest in anything scientific, anything that could be built like cars or planes or buildings, and wild animals.

Though the subject of everyone's highest interest this year was, as always, the newest unborn member of the family.

Ed was grateful that the past few months, Cayla's health had steadily improved – nausea of her first trimester not-withstanding – and she almost seemed to gain strength even as the babe grew. Of course, he attributed a lot of that to Urey's constant watchful care. His grandson put almost any other man to shame. Cayla wanted for nothing, and her appetite was certainly better than Ed had seen it –not that he'd seen it often— but even Urey had commented, and seemed very pleased. On her delicate frame, she looked further along than she actually was.

As it was, a large portion of the presents under the tree for Cayla and Urey this year were as much for the baby as the parents. Cayla's delighted expression at each little item made it that much more special. Ed watched her show each and every thing to Urey, who exclaimed in equal delight, even though Ed couldn't imagine Urey was any more interested in knit booties and baby blankets than Ed had been.

* * *

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were taking after, Dad," Ian teased Urey as he dropped down in the chair next to his brother, his plate loaded down with dessert.

"What does that mean?" Urey looked suspiciously at Ian.

"I just mean your lovely wife looks like she could pop any day already," Ian replied, keeping the smile on his face. He'd meant it to be friendly. He hadn't expected Urey to be so jumpy about it, though maybe he should have been a little more sensitive.

"Oh." Urey relaxed a little and turned to look at Cayla, who was chatting with Deanna and Trisha. "Well we're still not due until April."

"I got that." Ian took a big bite of pie and swallowed. "You know, you need to try some of this stuff," he pointed at the blueberry pie with his fork. "It's amazing."

"Oh I—"

"And don't tell me you couldn't," Ian cut him off with a grin. "Seriously, you're going to waste away to nothing at this rate. Even you shouldn't have to eat like a rabbit, and even Cayla thinks so. I should know, I asked." It had been a quiet conversation, but one he'd had the day he'd gotten off the train from Central.

"I see you're back to your old self," Urey commented, though he sounded less irritable, and eyed Ian's plate. "They trying to fatten you up for a part?"

Ian snickered. "They tried to tell me I needed to bulk up muscle for a role last summer. I told them it doesn't work that way. I can work out all year and add definition and it's not going to get much bulkier than this. They can do the rest with camera angles and good tailoring."

"Did they?"

"Yep." Ian had won that argument. "We have some really talented costume designers."

"Any of them pretty girls?" Urey asked with a sly smile.

Ian chuckled. "Yeah, a few." Not that he'd gone out with more than a handful of them. The last thing any guy ought to do was anger his costume or make-up team. "I try not to mix business with pleasure though. It doesn't usually doesn't end well."

"So the rumors about you and your new co-star in this romantic drama are—"

"Rumors, alas." Ian liked Vanae Lorene well enough. She was certainly hot, but she was also not his type. "This is, of course, why it's called acting. I'm not seeing anyone seriously right now."

"Do you ever?"

"Well, no." Ian admitted between bites, then poked his brother with his fork. "Now go get some of this before it's gone!"

"All right!" Urey hopped up to get out of the way. "If you say I've got to try it I'll try it."

Ian watched him go, and smiled as Urey got a slice of the pie, just one, but hey it was dessert right?

Ian had to admit, watching the family holiday around him, that Cayla did fit in pretty well, despite the challenges. She had a lot of needs, but she tried not to be pushy about them. And he was proud of his family, after all, they never turned their backs on anyone. His parents seemed to be adjusting as well. Maybe their reactions and concerns hadn't been justified. He honestly hoped not.

Ian just hoped Urey would relax a little more once the kid came.

* * *

"Thank you, Ethan," Cayla smiled kindly at Urey's uncle.

"It's no problem," Ethan assured them both as he watched his nephew rest a protective hand on Cayla's shoulder. "I'll be sure to come down early." The last thing he'd want to do would be to miss the birth. He completely understood their concerns. He'd heard enough about it on the phone from Aldon for the past few months. Having someone there who could perform medical alchemy, on top of their usual doctors, would be an added level of safety in case of complications.

"I feel better knowing you'll be here," Urey admitted.

"Good." Ethan smiled. "Bit of friendly advice, try and relax a little more. You don't want to wear yourself to a frazzle before you get to late night feedings and diaper changes."

Urey chuckled. "Right. I'll work on that."

**April 5****th****, 1979**

Spring came late to Resembool. Winter hung on for weeks, and when it changed it came in cold, sheeting rain. It kept Cayla indoors, but Urey was almost grateful for that since it meant she got plenty of rest, which she needed. He went to work at Deanna's father's dairy. They had recently expanded the herd and since it was moving into calving season, they could always use help.

Thankfully, Cayla hadn't had any more fevers that winter, and while she'd had a couple of weak spells, she didn't get so bad she needed the wheelchair in the house. Though sometimes he was a little surprised she didn't. He never said anything out loud, but against her fragile frame, her belly was huge, and he felt guilty for putting her through so much discomfort every time he looked at her. When he was home he did his best to pamper her with every spare moment.

Any fears of the baby coming too soon slowly faded as week after week Cayla grew, and the baby stayed safely inside where it belonged.

Ethan arrived at the end of March, showing up early just in case the baby did, and stayed up at Grandpa Ed's house, though he visited daily, and even went over to the hospital to help out for a couple of days.

The days became days of waiting. The small room next to Urey and Cayla's downstairs room had been transformed into a nursery with everything they needed. All that was missing was the baby.

"They only come when they're ready," Aldon assured Urey one evening as they all began to settle down for the night. "Nothing we can do is going to change that. Besides, you want them to come when they're ready."

"I know." And Urey did know. He and Cayla had attended classes on the subject, read books, talked to more family and friends and gotten far more advice than he cared to count. As he crawled into bed that evening, he just wished that babies came when their parents were ready.

* * *

"Urey? Urey!"

Startled awake, Urey sat bolt upright in bed. Outside, thunder crashed and a scatter of lightning brought stark relief to the room. "What is it?" He looked over at Cayla, who vanished back into darkness as the lightning faded. Another flash caught her eyes, wide eyes. Her hands were on her belly. "Is it the baby?" He reached over and turned on the lamp, flooding the room with amber light.

Cayla nodded definitively. "Wet…" she managed. "And…owww." She gasp sharply and let the breath out slow.

Wet. The sheets, Urey realized, were wet. "Hold on." He scrambled out of bed. "Hold on!" _Oh shit. Baby…coming. Doctor. Call the doctor._ Urey scrambled out of the room, his first shout for his mother, and then he was on the phone, dialing his Grandfather's house, waking Ethan, who promised to be right over and assured Urey he hadn't gone to bed yet. Then he called Doctor Lalman's house, not caring if he dragged the woman out of bed. Cayla was having the baby now!

When he got back to the room, his mother was there, soothing Cayla gently. Talking her through a contraction, reminding her to relax. "It's all right. There you go. There you go. That's right. Breathe easy. Relax. Good."

Her soft tones worked their way into Urey's brain, reminding him of all the times she had used them with him as a child. He sat down on the other side of Cayla, who was sweating already, and a little wide eyed, but calming. "Is everything okay?" Urey asked when the contraction was over.

"They're pretty intense," his mother replied, still calm. "I can see why they would hurt. I think your little one is finally in a hurry to get here."

"Great," Urey harrumphed. "Of course my kid couldn't wait until a decent hour."

"Why would it?" his mother asked. "None of you ever did."

**April 6****th****, 1979**

The contractions stayed strong, and hard, and despite how hard he tried to stay in the room, Urey had to excuse himself more than once. Cayla's face was very expressive, and the contortions of pain, the times she whimpered or cried out, how hard she worked, it was almost too much. The fluids _were_ too much. The third time he left, Urey had to empty his own stomach in the bathroom from queasiness.

"Yeah, I never was good at this part."

Urey looked up into his father's sympathetic face. "Is it always like this?"

"More or less."

Urey shook his head, then moved to the sink and splashed cold water over his face. "Then you were crazy to have all of us."

"Maybe." To his surprise his father didn't argue the point. "But I'm not sorry and neither is your mother. Do you want to come wait in the living room?"

"No." Urey looked at his pale face in the mirror. "No. I need to see this through." And then, he swore to himself, he was never going to put Cayla through this ever again.

His grandmother was standing in the hallway.

"What's wrong?" Urey asked when she moved forward to meet them.

"They don't want anyone else in there right now," she said, too calmly for Urey's liking. "They're examining her, and helping the baby into a better position." Uncle Ethan, Doctor Lalman, and his mother were all still inside the room.

"Mom," Aldon spoke with a soft, sharp tone that Urey hadn't expected. "_What's wrong_?"

Winry's face softened. "She's having trouble moving into transition, and her fever has come back."

* * *

Birth was one of the most beautiful, and terrible, parts of Ethan's job as a doctor. The creation of life, bringing it into the world for the first time, presenting parents with a new child to love and cherish; that was what happened when everything went right, or at least, when it all turned out right.

At the moment, Ethan was beginning to hope that it would turn out all right. Lalman was a great doctor to be working with, and Cassie the calmest nurse it was possible to have, even with her own grandchild the one coming.

Ethan had not been at all happy when Cayla's fever returned only a couple of hours into her labor. He suspected that the stress on her system had likely triggered it. Her fragile form dripped with sweat, and she cried out in ripping pain with each contraction. Along with the fluids he expected, there was blood…more than there should be. Searching for possible internal causes with alchemy, Ethan delved until he found one. "Tearing," he said simply, and moved to correct it, stemming blood flow, healing the damage, but so careful, so_ very_ carefully. He tried not to pull any of the healing energy from Cayla; he brought it all through himself. She didn't have enough to use, he noticed. A fact that alarmed him, though he could do nothing for it at the moment. Most women, even after nine months of the rigors of carrying their child, had plenty of energy, of life force, to keep themselves going. Cayla, the poor girl, had little to no reserves to speak of.

The excess blood stopped. "Did you fix it?" Lalman asked curtly.

Ethan nodded, and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping sweat from his own brow. He was going to be spent after this one. "There's no hemorrhaging."

Cayla's next contraction elicited whimpers, but no more tearing screams. She didn't even look surprised, entirely wrapped up in simply bringing her child into the world. Ethan wondered if she was even aware of anything but her body, and the soothing sounds of Cassie's voice. Cassie, who was sweating too, from nerves; who sounded as calm and pleasant as if it were just a simple exercise. At least Cayla still responded to her instructions.

"Where are we?" Ethan asked Lalman.

"Full dilated and effaced. She's still having some trouble pushing the head down. It's big."

Ethan nodded. He wasn't sure what he could do about that, but there might be something. Placing his hands once more on her side, he closed his eyes, and concentrated. As he did so, he tried to pull some of the pain away, as he had done for Lia. It wasn't as effective with a woman he didn't know intimately, and he had to be delicate, oh so very delicate, with her, but he tried to help her body shunt away some of the pain, and to soothe the area around which the child's head was pushing. It seemed to be swelling and irritating the flesh there, and he calmed the irritation as best he could, and tried to feed her more energy, enough to push. If there had been time, and if she had been stronger, he might have suggested to Lalman that it was time to reconsider opting for surgery, except he knew how little she had left, and in her condition, that did not seem a viable option. It hadn't been when they had discussed it beforehand, except in the extremity. In her current condition, the medication itself, not to mention the trauma of surgery, might be enough to kill her.

Even with alchemy, Ethan could almost feel it when the child finally slid down with the next contraction. Cayla's body was working so hard. She squawked, startled by the movement. Ethan gave her all the energy he could muster. There wasn't anything else he could do.

"That's it," Cassie's soothing voice came to his ears, almost as if she was talking to him to. "Just a little longer. You can do it. The baby's coming just fine. That's right. Very good."

Ethan could feel her slipping, then stabilizing. He just had to keep her there. He slowly fed her more energy, shunted away more pain. It was a delicate balancing act. "Lalman?"

"Progressing quickly. Plus two."

Ethan grunted. "Get Urey in here, now." This was it, the final push, and Cayla needed her husband. There was no doubt in Ethan's mind that Urey had to be in here.

He didn't know who went to the door, or if they were waiting outside, but it opened and Urey burst through it, though he stopped dead for several seconds, face pale, before he stumbled to the bedside. "Cayla?" He fumbled for her hand, and held it tight. "I'm here, Cayla. It's all right. I'm right here."

Ethan felt a small surge in her, not alchemical energy, but a flicker of life. Good. That was what he needed. _Good girl. Now just hold on a few more minutes. _

"Cayla, honey?" Urey's voice held a note of panic, an edge that he was clearly fighting back.

She blinked up at him briefly. "Urey." Her weak smile contorted into another grimace of pain as the next contraction hit, and Ethan focused on trying to shunt it away, to hold her steady, to keep her energy up.

"Cayla?" Urey's voice seemed a mile away. "_Cayla_!" 

* * *

_Author's Note (8/20/13): And for my birthday this year we get... drama and suspense! How will this moment turn out? Find out next week!_

I know the pacing on this story is a bit different from most of my other works, while it is internally consistent. It felt that it needed the slightly more frenetic pace. It covers more time than most stories, with a specific focus, and there's a lot of time where we might have hung around going "okay, she's been sick for two weeks. Can we read something other than Urey taking care of his wife now?" It refuses to be laborious and slow, but I think that is for the best given how much drama we get in relatively short order!

Thanks for reading! 


	3. Chapter 3

**April 6****th****, 1979 (Continued) **

Crying.

A thin wail was coming from somewhere off to one side, but all Urey could feel were tears. Hot, salty splashes that fell down his cheeks. "Cayla? Sweetheart… you did it." His voice cracked. The last few minutes had been one long nightmare. "You did it." He reached out, one hand gently bringing a lock of hair off her face. She had gone so very still. "Wake up."

The cry was the baby… Cayla's baby, his mind told him, in an odd abstract way.

"Urey."

He ignored the hand. "Cayla, stay with me. _Please_!" The last became a sob.

"Urey."

"Do something!" Urey looked up at his uncle, whose hair was matted down with sweat. "Damn it, save her!" She wasn't dead. Just moments ago she'd looked at him.

Ethan's sympathetic look made him want to smack his uncle's face. "I did everything I could," he said softly, his voice pained. "I'm sorry, Urey."

"Sorry?" A rage he had never felt welled up inside Urey, and he found himself on his feet, with no memory of standing, staring his uncle in the eyes. "_She's dead! _Oh… gods… she's dead! You did _everything?_ Are you sure? She was here, just here…" Just moments… but she wasn't asleep. Cayla was gone. His love was dead. He had killed her by trying to give her the only thing she had asked him for…and it had killed her.

"Urey." His mother's voice this time, though softer than he'd ever heard it. "Urey… your son is crying."

A son… Cayla's son. The baby that killed her. Urey's eyes blurred and burned. He felt as if he might pop out of his skin with heat, and anger, and loss, and a thousand other feelings that made it hard to think. His mother was holding up a small, squalling baby.

"Urey, you should hold him."

"No!" The shout came out loud, far louder even than he had expected. "_No!_"

* * *

Cassie stared at her son, stunned. In her arms, the newborn's cries turned to a shriek at the loud noise, and she pulled him back, cradling him against her chest. "Hush now," she said softly, without looking down. "What do you mean _no_?" she asked Urey. "He's your son, Yurian." That was the name she knew he and Cayla had agreed on for a boy. Her own eyes threatened to overflow with tears, but she held them back. She and Lalman and Ethan had done everything possible, and still Cayla had slipped away from them. But the baby was alive, and healthy. He needed his father.

"No," Urey barked again. "If it weren't for him… for me… Cayla would be alive. I… I can't." He staggered towards the door, breaking into a run before Cassie could break out of her shock enough to call after him. Even Lalman and Ethan seemed stunned into momentary inaction.

"Urey?" Cassie tried to call out, but her voice broke, and her eyes finally filled with tears that overflowed. She cuddled the crying baby to her. _Poor baby. Give your daddy time. He loves you. He's just hurting. _Her baby was hurting.

SCENE BREAK SCENE BREAK SCENE BREAK

Ethan watched Urey storm out of the room. In the aftermath, he turned to the unpleasant side of the job, the part that made him want to cry, even when he couldn't. Though in this case, he knew he would later. He had done everything he could, and it hadn't been enough, and now his nephew was suffering. He didn't need Urey's ringing accusations to make him feel awful about the situation, nor did he blame him for them. Grief was not a rational thing.

Urey had not returned by the time he and Lalman had gently taken care of Cayla's body, cleaned up the room, and seen her properly taken to the little funeral home in town. Lalman left with her, leaving Ethan at loose ends.

"Ethan?"  
He turned and looked at his mother, who now stood at his side with a concerned expression. "Are you all right?"

Ethan folded his mother in a hug that she returned tightly. Sometimes, there was just nothing that could express all the heartbreak and need for comfort, and have it immediately returned, than a hug in the arms of someone who understood. "I couldn't have done more," he whispered softly. "I tried, but she just slipped away, Mom. She wasn't strong enough."

"He'll understand it's not your fault," Winry assured him. "Later, with time. Now come away from the door and sit down." She straightened up. "I'm amazed you haven't fallen over already. You're exhausted. So sit, and I'll find you something to eat and drink."

Ethan gave her one more squeeze before he let go. The only hug that could have been as therapeutic would have been Lia's. At that moment he desperately missed his wife and children. "Thanks, Mom."

Winry smiled gently as she turned towards the refrigerator, "Someone has to take care of the doctor."

**April 8****th****, 1979 **

It was still raining two days later. Edward thought the dismal weather was more than appropriate for a funeral, especially given the tragedy that had led to it. He stood beside Winry, holding the umbrella for both of them. Only a few feet away, Aldon and Cassie stood in similar form. Yurian, swaddled in black, was in his grandmother's arms.

Urey didn't seem to notice he was standing in the rain, soaking wet. He had refused all offers of cover with a shake of the head, and no words. He had barely spoken in two days. Aldon didn't think Urey had eaten a thing. He refused to acknowledge Yurian was even there, and attempts to get him to hold the boy resulted in Urey disappearing from the house for an hour or more.

Ed had come close to knowing that loss, but he had always been grateful that he had never felt it. He'd lost enough. But his heart ached for Urey, and for that poor little boy, whose birth should have been cause for so much celebration; whose first days were to be surrounded by tears and sorrow. It wasn't Yurian's fault.

Reichart and Deanna's kids looked los, and a little scared by how serious everyone was. Ed thought it probably still didn't seem real to them.

It was too real to him. He pulled Winry closer and she leaned into him. "I wish there was something we could do for him," Winry said softly, though Ed doubted Urey could hear her over the pattering rain.

"We're here," Ed pointed out just as softly. "And we will continue to be here, whether he thinks he wants us to be or not."

* * *

There was a small gathering at the Rockbell house afterwards, for anyone to offer their condolences, but it didn't last long before all that was left were family, and then even Deanna and Reichart took their kids home to change. Urey said little, not even voicing an opinion when Cassie changed clothes and started dinner. Aldon watched her bring Yurian back out, no longer swaddled in black, but in a clean blue pair of baby pajamas. "Will you hold him while I cook?" she asked Urey. Ted was setting the table, Callie was pulling out ingredients.

Urey jumped as if startled and looked at the baby as if it was a snake that had almost bitten him. "I told you, I don't want to hold him." It was the longest thing he'd said in two days. But the hurt and disdain in his voice brought Aldon to his feet.

"He's your son," he said. "You've got to hold him sometime."

Urey came to his feet. "I don't want anything to do with him!"

"Urey!" Cassie stared at their son with an expression of horror.

"You can't be serious," Ted snorted in disbelief.

"That… _that_ killed Cayla!" Urey shouted. "_She's_ the one who… who wanted him."

Aldon felt his blood go cold. "Are you telling me you never wanted him in the first place?"

An odd hush fell over the room. Everyone was staring at Urey, whose face had turned a very vibrant shade of purple. Then it faded. Urey looked at each of them in turn, then back at Aldon. "Yes. That's it. Exactly." Then he turned and vanished into the dark hallway. Moments later, Aldon heard the back door slam.

"He… he didn't mean it." Callie was the first to break the silence, her voice quavering. "He can't mean that."

"I don't know." Ted shook his head, but he didn't look much steadier. "He sounded serious."

Cassie was in tears.

Aldon crossed the room, stuffing down the seething fury he felt, and gathered her close, then took Yurian into one arm. "He'll come around. Shhh… he will," he soothed Cassie, hugging her with his other arm. He wished he felt as confident as he sounded. But he and Cassie had been feeding the boy for the past two days with bottles of formula –though Ted and Callie had been surprisingly helpful in taking turns- and they would take care of him for as long as they needed to.

_You'd better not have meant it, boy. Your son is your responsibility. Cayla would hate to see you treat him this way._

**April 13****th****, 1979**

Urey didn't come home until late. Late enough that Aldon almost snuck downstairs to check for burglars when he heard the door. It was the key that told him it was Urey. In the morning, Urey –looking bleary-eyed and distant- showed up dressed for work at the dairy with an expression that almost dared anyone to question it. Aldon didn't. Keeping busy was better than sitting around, and Urey had never been one for doing nothing.

But Urey didn't come home until late again the next night, and the night after. When asked, Reichart didn't know where Urey was going either. The answer was not difficult to find out. Reichart followed his brother after he left the dairy the next evening, and found Urey at the cemetery, sitting in front of Cayla's grave, working his way slowly through a small bottle of whiskey. Reichart watched until Urey stoppered it without draining the bottle, stood, and left.

Aldon couldn't say he was happy with the news, but it could have been worse. Trying to talk to Urey about his pain usually set off an explosion that died as fast as it started, but left everyone feeling awkward. Usually, it made the baby cry, or Cassie.

A week after the funeral, everyone got together for dinner at his parents' house. Aldon was glad for the invitation. They all needed some normalcy. It was the best way to move through the grief, his own included. Cayla had come into their lives unexpectedly, and as much as things had been disrupted, she had been such a warm, kind person that it had not taken long for Aldon to let his guard down, to put most of his reservations behind him.

This was not at all what he had expected.

Aldon wasn't sure if Urey would even come, but he had actually come home after work, showered, and changed. Hoping this was a sign of improvement, Aldon had felt a little bit of encouragement as they walked up to the hill house.

Reichart and Deanna were already there when they arrived, and Deanna and Winry were half way through dinner preparations. Rhiana, Owen, and Cailean were curled up on the couch looking at books. Rhiana, who was nearly seven, was reading out loud to her little brothers. Owen, who was almost five, could follow along and even read most of it. Cailean, who was barely three, was still working on it, so he was happy to let his older siblings do most of the work.

Aldon smiled as he watched his grandchildren giggle at a particularly brightly colored book.

"Nice to see a smile around here," Ed commented.

Aldon turned to his father. "Nice to have a reason to smile," he replied as he gave him a hug of greeting. "I don't think a week has ever felt longer."

"It seems that way," Ed agreed. "How's Urey?" His eyes flickered briefly in Urey's direction.

Aldon watched his son take a seat in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the television and fireplace, but he seemed to be looking off into space more than anything else. "Not good," he replied. "It's like he's in a fog. He goes to work, he goes to Cayla's grave, he comes home. He doesn't eat much. Most of the time he's just quiet."

"Has he held Yurian yet?"

"No." The word came out almost as a low growl. Aldon tried to stifle anger and disappointment. "Cassie's stopped asking the last couple of days. All it does it make him yell, or send him out of the house. Either way it makes everyone upset. Yurian's doing all right on formula."

"You should like you could use a good night's sleep."

"Given how long it's been since I spent a week in a house with a newborn?" Aldon sighed. He did need sleep. His little girl was thirteen. He hadn't planned on raising another baby. Helping out was one thing, but this was entirely another.

"Well at least we can get a good meal in everyone," his father said, and smiled. "We'll keep trying with Urey. He'll snap out of it eventually."

* * *

Edward was glad to sit down to dinner. The meal Winry had planned consisted of a lot of old family favorites, including a hearty bowl of stew, thick crusty hot bread, and apple pies baking in the oven. The house smelled about as much like home as was possible, and he couldn't say he'd mind the comfort food.

He also hoped the good news they had received from Central would help brighten the mood.

Winry brought it up over pie and coffee. "We got a call from Sara this afternoon," she said casually as she filled cups with coffee or tea. The kids had chocolate milk.

"What's up in Central?" Ted asked curiously.

"Oh, plenty," Winry said. "James has been assigned to investigations like he was hoping. Krista is still enjoying university. She's decided to double-major in early education and social sciences."

"Good for her," Cassie smiled, patting Yurian's back as he burped on her shoulder.

Ed watched Ted perk up at mention of Krista. He kept quiet and ate his pie.

"Trisha and Roy were over for dinner last night," Winry continued. "Rosa was all excited. She was showing them she could count to ten and say her alphabet."

"That's great," Callie grinned. "She'll be reading before Cailean at that rate."

"Nuh uh!" Cailean objected. "I can too read!"

"She's just teasing you," Deanna said calmly. "Any other news?" she asked with a look of expectation.

Ed grinned at Winry, who nodded. "Just a bit. Sara did say Trisha told her they were expecting their second child in December."

Reichart chuckled. "Well isn't that a coincidence."

The general exclamation of pleasure and surprise turned to several funny looks in Reichart's direction.

"Something you wanted to tell us?" Ed asked his other grandson. _Again, Art?_

Reichart and Deanna shared a look, and then Deanna smiled. "Well I suppose there's no reason to keep quiet now. We're due in January."

Ed watched Cassie's eyes light up as she leaned over and hugged first her son, then her daughter –in-law, even though it meant getting up with Yurian in her arms to do it.

"And here I thought you might just be done," Aldon teased his son.

"At only three?" Reichart asked.

"_Only_ he says," Ed couldn't help snorting.

"Don't be too hard on him," Deanna smiled across the table at her father-in-law. "It was my idea."

Aldon shook his head ruefully. "You're both crazy."

It was only movement in his peripheral vision that made Ed turn his head in time to see Urey leave the table, heading for the back porch door. His heart sank. As wonderful as the news was, given what had happened, to Urey it probably sounded anything but good. Quietly, Ed absented himself from the table.

Urey hadn't gone far. He was just out on the porch, staring out into the trees and stars. He didn't even turn around when Ed joined him. "You should be inside," Urey said after a minute. "Celebrating with the others."

"So should you," Ed replied. "We could all use something to celebrate."

"Why should I?" Urey replied harshly. "What they're all so happy about… I hate it. I can't sit there and listen to them talking about it. It's just…" his voice broke, and he stopped.

"It's not fair," Ed finished. "You're right. It's not. But that doesn't mean we stop living, or caring. It doesn't mean that life stops being precious."

"It just stops meaning anything."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. And I don't want to hear any bullshit about equivalent exchange or how one is all," Urey added sharply. "Cayla never did anything to deserve what she got… not any of it. Not being sick, or weak, or… just leave me alone."

"All right." Ed bit his tongue on his temper. Now was not the time to lash out, no matter how much he found himself wanting to beat some sense into his grandson. Urey was a man grown, and he was still grieving over a fresh and horrible loss. "But not forever. The world keeps turning, and like it or not, we have to keep moving with it." He turned and went back inside, to where he could hear laughing and chatting, and life. He hoped Urey could hear it. He hoped Urey would decide sooner, rather than later, that he still wanted to be a part of it.

...

**June 3****rd****, 1979 (almost three months later)**

"What do you mean he's gone?"

Aldon didn't like the accusing, scared look in Cassie's eyes as she stared at him.

Aldon swallowed. "I mean he's gone. There's a suitcase missing, and about half of his clothes. And he left this." _This_ was a short, handwritten note that Aldon had found on the kitchen table when he came back from the office for a quick lunch between meetings.

Cassie snatched the note out of his hand. Aldon didn't need to read it again to know what it said, or when she reached the end. Her face told him that.

_I'm sorry. I can't take being in the house anymore, or in Resembool. The memories hurt too much. I've taken a job elsewhere. Please don't look for me. I'll be fine. Take care. Urey_

"A job? But where? Why wouldn't he say where he's going?" Cassie's heartbroken expression made Aldon want to throttle his son all over again. First he refused to have anything to do with his own son, and now after two months, he'd just run off.

"Well we'll try and found out of course," Aldon assured her. "We have plenty of resources. We'll find him."

"But he says he doesn't want to be found."

"We're not giving him a say in it," Aldon replied, a little sharper than intended. He pulled Cassie into a tight embrace. "He'll come back. Even if we don't find him, eventually he'll come back. This is home."

"I'm scared, Don," Cassie whispered. "There's something wrong with him. This is worse than just grief. What if he doesn't come back?"

_You mean what if he kills himself. _Aldon did not say aloud what he thought. The letter didn't sound, to him, like a suicide note. That didn't mean he wasn't worried Urey wasn't going to go out and do something stupid. Or maybe he just wanted someplace he could drown his sorrows without people giving him dirty looks, someplace no one knew him, or cared. "He will," he told Cassie as he patted her back with one hand. "Urey's not the type to run away." _But then, I didn't think he was the type to abandon his own son either._


	4. Chapter 4

**August 4****th****, 1979**

"Look at you," Winry cooed, smiling at her great-grandson as Yurian sat on a blanket in her garden, holding himself completely upright and blinking and smiling as he looked at the flours. "Yes, aren't you a big boy? Sitting up all by yourself. At this rate you'll be crawling by five months."

"And into everything by six," Deanna chuckled, sitting cross-legged on the blanket beside them.

"Where they stay for a long time," Winry smiled and waved the little teething toy Yurian was reaching for in front of him before handing it over. He was just starting to teethe. Soon, they could start him on baby cereal. Such a sweet baby, Winry thought. He looked a lot like Urey, but he had Cayla's pale blue eyes.

"Decades," Deanna replied, looking up from her book.

In the pool, Edward and Reichart were playing around with the kids, ostensibly giving swimming lessons, though Winry thought it looked more like a game of water tag. It probably was. The laughter and splashing were happy sounds on a hot august afternoon.

"Man, that water looks good!"

Winry looked up to see Ted, lean and strong, in nothing but his swim trunks, standing behind her, his hands resting easily on his hip bones. He really did look a lot like Ed had at that age. Almost as much as Ethan had. "So I see you finally decided to put down the books and enjoy summer." She knew he was planning to take the State Alchemy exam in the spring right around his eighteenth birthday, and Ted was taking it very seriously.

Ted shrugged and grinned at her. "Well I can't study every minute of the day. And it's really hard to focus when everyone else is out here splashing around." Then he turned to the pool, bellowed "Look out below!" and took off, cannon-balling into the deep end.

Yurian giggled.

"Hey, watch it!" Reichart laughed, blocking the wave with his arms, so it lessened before it lifted the littler kids too much. Cailean, who was floating with his arms on an inner tube, laughed.

"You're in for it now, squirt!" Ed bellowed, vanishing under water. Several seconds later, water erupted from the pool under Ted, half launching him across the length of it.

"No alchemy!" Ted sputtered as he regained footing.

"Who used alchemy?" Ed grinned smugly as he surfaced. "Better keep alert."

Ted pushed his bangs out of his face, though with his shorter hair that didn't take much. "Then you'd better look out yourself," he grinned, and dove under.

"Art!" Deanna called out.

"Don't worry, I've got them." Reichart had already pulled Cailean and the other two to the far side of the shallow end. He grinned at his wife. "Relax."

"That's what I'm doing," Deanna pointed out, holding up her book.

"Ed! Keep it to a dull roar, okay?" Winry shouted.

A miniature tidal wave died mid formation. "Yes, dear."

"The military's lucky they won't have both of those two at once," Deanna smiled.

"One Edward Elric at a time is more than enough," Winry agreed, though she didn't think they would have as much trouble with Ted as the original. "At least Ted is more even tempered."

"They should be more worried about the girls in Central," Deanna nodded. "He doesn't look like a kid anymore."

"No, he doesn't." Winry could just imagine what the girls would do with a boy who looked that good, and _knew_ how to flirt. "I hope he keeps out of trouble outside of work. I don't expect him to stay out of trouble working for the State."

"It'll be his job to get in to trouble." Aldon's voice came from behind them.

Winry turned around and smiled at her son. "You're done with work early! Come to join us?"

Aldon nodded. "Yeah, I finished my meetings and calls." Something about his tone caught her attention.

"Any news?" she asked softly.

Aldon shook his head as he came down the stairs. "No. Still nothing."

Ed had called the investigations department nearly a month before and set them to helping find Urey, when it became clear that he wasn't returning home in a few days, and he hadn't called. But Urey had been gone for two months now without a word, and without any leads aside from verifying he hadn't gone anywhere they could talk to someone who knew him, and he hadn't even left Resembool by train. The stationmaster hadn't seen him.

"They'll find something," Winry said, hoping she sounded positive. Given time, she was sure that they would find Urey. She just wished it would be sooner rather than later. A tug on her sleeve made her look back down at her great-grandson. Cassie was working her shift at the hospital, and Winry had been more than happy to take care of him. Yurian was such a sweet little boy. If Urey would just spend time with him, she was sure he would want to be with his son.

Aldon dropped down on the ground next to them with a heavy sigh, the strain of the past two months evident in his face. "If they even had some idea of which direction he went, it would be something. Or if he'd just _call us._"

"He's out there somewhere," Deanna said with hopeful patience. "He came to the dairy every day for almost two months before he vanished. He has to be working somewhere, if he's eating."

"We just need a real lead." Winry nodded. If nothing else, they could count on Urey not being willing to starve. "Now why don't you tell me what the Ladies' Rotary Club wanted with you?"

Aldon groaned. "They wanted my opinion on what food they should offer for the bake sale they want to hold to raise money to fix up the front of the town hall… and they brought samples."

"I take it you're not hungry then?" Winry suggested with a soft smile at Aldon's look of dismay.

Her son waved her off. "No. But I'm beginning to understand why most mayors seem to be bald and fat if they've been in office long."

"Maybe you should get in your shorts and go for a swim." Winry gestured to where Reichart, kids safely out of the way, had joined in the tussle with Ted and Edward.

Aldon watched them for a moment. "Yeah, I think I will."

**September 10****th****, 1979**

Ian tried not to hurry out of his costume too fast at the end of filming, but he was in a little bit of a rush. Ethan had made sure to invite him to Eamon and Lily's first High School orchestra concert. He hadn't been hugely interested in them when he had been a student at Central High, but he was honestly looking forward to seeing his younger cousins perform. They had both continued with music lessons even after their other grandmother had moved back to South City, and branched out from just piano. Eamon was now playing saxophone, and Lily the clarinet.

"Careful, you'll drop that," one of the wardrobe staff cautioned as she darted in, catching the jacket before it slid off the hanger.

"Sorry," Ian apologized, honestly abashed. "I didn't mean to. It's a really fabulous jacket."

"Thanks," she smiled at him as Ian turned, and he recognized Bonnie. He'd seen her on a few of his films, and she had worked on _Amestris High._

"You designed it?" he realized.

"Yeah, I did."

Ian smiled. "Well it's the best fit I think I've ever had. So, thanks. Sorry, I'm going to be late for my cousins' concert."

"Then go," Bonnie shooed him, turning around to hang up the coat.

Ian left wardrobe, and hurried across the back lot to the gates, where his Aunt Sara had promised to pick him up on her way to the concert.

The car was waiting at the curb, and Ian hopped in the back since his aunt and uncle took up the front seat. "James isn't coming?" he asked, noting his cousin's absence.

"He's going there straight from HQ," Sara explained as Franz pulled the car out into traffic. "He had to finish up some paperwork before they'd let him go."

"Sounds like riveting work," Ian commented dryly.

Franz chuckled. "Paperwork usually is. I'm just grateful Rehnquist actually does his in a timely fashion."

"And Breda didn't?" Sara asked.

"Well he was far better than Mustang," Franz conceded. "James is diligent enough, he'll get it done. They always make the new guy in the office do a lot of the work right off; teaches them how to keep up when things get busy. They'll ease off on him in a few months, or when they get someone newer than he is."

The conversation went from types of paperwork in investigations and James' work and eventually made its way back around to music and that evening's concert.

"I hope the rest of the orchestra is as good as Eamon and Lily are," Sara commented as they parked and got out. "Or we're in for a painful evening."

"Hey, at least we won't be the embarrassed family in the room," Ian pointed out with a grin. "We can be the ones who hoot and holler at the end and be proud of their talent."

"That's the way to think," Ethan grinned as they converged on the door at the same time. "Eamon and Lily are already in there warming up."

"So let's get seats!" Lia beamed, not-quite dragging Ethan through the door with Aeddan on their heels.

The eight-year-old did not look thrilled. "Do I have to listen?" he asked, in a voice that just managed to be short of a whine.

"That's part of being a brother," Ian grinned at his younger cousin. "Tell you what; you can sit next to me, okay?"

"Really?" Aeddan's face lit up. "Okay!"

Ian slipped into the middle of the family swarm as they moved inside, keeping his head slightly down. It didn't help that he was taller than everyone except Franz. The last thing he really wanted was for too many people to recognize him. There were plenty who wouldn't bother the family out in public, but he wasn't so sure about half the girls currently _attending_ the school, or their older sisters. Tonight was about Eamon and Lily, not a signing opportunity.

He slipped into a seat next to Aeddan, as promised, and between his sets of aunts and uncles, which would minimize any potential insanity, even when he was recognized. It was doomed to happen. His whole family was rather high profile, he was just stuck being the celebrity.

Ian relaxed as the lights went down, the audience quieted, and the curtain opened. From the opening notes, he knew this was going to be more enjoyable than the Middle School version he had attended at the end of the previous school year. Eamon and Lily, both being in the top set of chairs in their sections, were visible in the front rows. This, he had learned from them both, was the audition-only orchestra. The school had an open-to-anyone orchestra and a marching band as well.

They performed several numbers of varying levels of difficulty and Ian found himself enjoying it as he recognized several classic pieces, as well as one jazz piece he knew Cal was particularly fond of –and he heard it often if he was over at Cal and Alyse's house- and then one that was the theme from a movie he liked. Musical scores were something he actually enjoyed, since he never got to hear the ones in his own films until they were put together. It was fun to see what the composers did with them.

He grinned as Aeddan sat through it, paying more attention than Ian would have expected given his earlier fidgeting. "Pretty cool, huh?" he asked between numbers, while the audience was applauding.

"Yeah, it is," Aeddan agreed.

"Here we go," Lia breathed as things got quiet again, and Ian made sure to pay particular attention. In the final number, Lily had a Clarinet solo.

It had struck Ian recently that both his cousin and his little sister, being the same age, were turning into women instead of girls. Watching Lily, looking particularly mature and composed in the black skirt and hose and white blouse of the orchestra uniform, he was far more aware of it. Lily was not a little girl. She was a very good looking high school freshman. _I hope Uncle Ethan is ready with the offensive alchemy._

She was very good musically too. It was not at all difficult to come to his feet at the end of the piece, as the audience gave the orchestra a standing ovation.

"Let's go around backstage and meet them," Ethan said softly as they all filed out.

"I'm not going to cause a scene am I?" Ian asked, aware of a few eyes on him as the crowd pressed towards the exits except for parents.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Lia smiled knowingly. "No one messes with the teachers."

Ian grinned. "No one would believe you're the mean teacher Aunt Lia."

"Not mean," Ethan corrected. "Just intimidating."

They made it backstage without any incidents, and it only took a minute to find Eamon and Lily, who had both finished putting away their instruments. Lily, he noticed, was chatting with several other band members, three of whom happened to be older boys.

Ethan started toward her, but Ian stepped up. "Can I handle this one?" he asked, almost eagerly.

Ethan gave him a startled look, but nodded. "Go for it."

Ian strode right up to the group. "Lily, that was incredible, cuz!" he beamed, speaking loudly enough to interrupt the general conversation.

Lily looked up immediately, and smiled. "Ian! You came!"

"Of course I did," he stepped right through the slightly stunned group of kids to give her a big hug. "That solo was great. Sounded just like the original score. Good work, everyone," with the last he turned to include the rest of the band, one arm still protectively around Lily, but just for a second. "I really enjoyed it."

The girls looked like they might faint with joy. The boys looked like their tongues were glued to their mouths.

_Good._ "Well, I hate to steal my cousin and run," he said, "But I think Uncle Ethan was saying something about a celebratory dessert. Are you ready, Lily?"

"Oh, yeah." Lily picked up her clarinet case. "I think Eamon's already over there."

"Great. Well, nice to meet you," Ian smiled at the crowd and herded Lily off because they could regain their voices.

"What were you doing?" Lily whispered as they walked towards the door.

So she was smart enough to realize he was doing it on purpose. Ian was impressed. "Giving your female friends a treat, and making the boys think twice."

"They're not bad guys, Ian," she commented, sounding slightly annoyed.

"And this will help keep them that way. Trust me. You're too good for most of the guys here. It just gives them a little extra something to think about if they think they might piss me off too. They're probably more afraid of angering a movie star than your Dad."

Lily's expression turned thoughtful. "You're right, and that's not a bad thing."

Ian grinned. "Glad you see things my way."

**October 20****th****, 1979**

The uncaring gray sky pressed down from above, threatening rain. It began to spatter against the windshield of the vehicle, and on top of his hat. Not that he cared. His mind was not on his work, now that shift was ending. It was back in the empty apartment. The sky growled louder than the pit of his stomach. Both would soon be quenched, when he was done. He was nearly done, he was sure of that.

"Hey, see you tomorrow," his co-worker said as he hopped into the truck.

Urey nodded, but said nothing.


	5. Chapter 5

**December 27****th****,**** 1979**

The holidays were over, and the house was once again quiet. It always made Ed a little sad when a large chunk of the family went back to Central. He was grateful for the faster trains, and roadways, that made the trip shorter than it used to be. He and Winry were already plotting a visit to Central in the couple of months.

The only mild damper on the holidays, and really one was a blessing, were the people who couldn't make it, or hadn't shown up. Even Ed had silently hoped that, against all odds, Urey would show up on the doorstep with the rest of the family. When he hadn't, very few people had wanted to bring him up, though they exclaimed over Yurian and played with him for hours. At eight-and-a-half months, he was crawling everywhere now, and pulling himself up, though not yet standing.

The others who hadn't made it were Trisha and Roy and little Rosa, but that was because Trisha had gone into labor four days before they were supposed to come, and given birth to their son, whom they had named Gabriel. They had stayed behind and celebrated the winter holiday with Roy's family instead.

It was early evening, and Ed was content to be cuddled up on the couch with Winry, watching an old movie that was finally being broadcast in a television format. "This is just as good as I remember," he commented as it came to an end.

"And as romantic," Winry smiled. "I remember when we saw it. We had to get Al to watch Sara."

"I remember that," Ed chuckled. "I almost felt bad for him, getting to change that diaper."

"Only almost?"

"Well it wasn't like we didn't have to face the bad ones on a regular basis," Ed pointed out. "Though they don't seem nearly so bad in retrospect."

"We've seen more than our share." Winry smiled, though to Ed it looked a little sad, and he didn't have to ask why. They had taken on a good amount of the Yurian watching, since Ted and Callie had school and Aldon and Cassie both had jobs that needed their attention, though the boy still lived with his grandparents.

"We sure have," Ed agreed. "Though I can't say that I mind."

The phone began to ring.

"We could ignore it," Winry suggested wistfully, her head still on his shoulder.

"Or it could be Art telling us Deanna's in labor," Ed pointed out. Just because she wasn't due until January didn't mean the baby might not come in his or her own time.

"I hate it when you're right," Winry grumbled as Ed stood up and went for the phone.

"Then you must get irritated often," Ed teased as he picked up the receiver. "Elrics, Ed speaking."

"Edward, this is Silvia."

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," Ed said honestly. It wasn't like Lia's mother to give them a call, though she had called just a couple of days before to wish everyone a good holiday and speak with Ethan, Lia, and anyone else who wanted to talk to her. "Can I help you?"

"Actually, I thought I might be able to help you," Silvia replied, though she sounded uncertain. "I think I saw Urey."

"What?" Ed almost dropped the phone in surprise. "In South City?"

"Yes. This afternoon. I was doing my shopping downtown and I could have sworn I saw him getting into a city electrical truck."

"And you're sure it was him?" Ed wanted to believe it. After so long with no leads, not even from the government investigative end…

"Not entirely," Silvia admitted hesitantly. "But it looked so much like him, I thought it was worth mentioning. I also looked up the phone number for the company. I thought it might be helpful."

Ed scrambled for paper and a pen and copied down the number as she read it off for him. "Yes! Thank you, Silvia. Thank you!"

"What is it, Ed?" Winry asked, peering over the couch with a confused expression.

"A lead." Ed almost laughed when he hung up. A grin seemed plastered on his face. It was a very small lead, but it was something. It was too late to call the company tonight, but tomorrow… tomorrow might just be the break they needed. It was the same heady rush of elation he had felt as a young man, whenever he and Al thought they had a new lead on the Philosopher's stone. Only this… this was much more important.

**December 28****th****, 1979**

"I wish I was going with you," Aldon said as Ed stood on the train platform waiting for the first train towards South City.

"Resembool needs its Mayor," Ed replied, though he understood his son's impatience with the situation. All this time, worrying, taking care of Yurian. He had called the company first thing that morning, and while they didn't have a Urey Elric, they had a man going by Urey Silverman who matched the description fairly closely. Given that was Cassie's maiden name, Ed was willing to make the trip. He had a hunch that Silvia's observance was going to pay off, and he had a _lot_ of things he wanted to say to his grandson and alchemy student. "Besides, if this turns out well, you'll have plenty of time to talk to Urey when I drag his ass home."

"I hope so. He may not agree to come home, if it's him."

Ed gave his son a hug, and Cassie, and Winry, and then little Yurian. "Well I'll do my best," he said, then snorted. "Listen to us. That's enough with the defeatist attitudes. I'm going to find Urey and give him a piece of my mind. Now you all enjoy the New Year, and let's all hope the coming one is better than a lot of this one."

**January 3****rd****, 1980**

South City wasn't much warmer than Resembool in January, though it seemed far more prone to winter rains than the occasional snow to which Ed had become accustomed. He got off the train and went straight to the electric company, only to find out that Urey hadn't come in to work that day as it was his scheduled day off. Regretfully, their main office explained, they couldn't violate employee privacy by giving out addresses or phone numbers.

Frustrated, Ed stepped back outside.

"Excuse me, Mr. Elric?" An employee with short, dark hair, still in his electrician's uniform, followed him down the stairs.

"Yes?" Ed turned to him, not sure he dared hope for help. He was ready to scour South City if need be, but it would take forever.

"I'm Dan," he held out his hand, and on it was a small slip of paper. "Urey's my partner on the job. I don't know what's up with him. He does his work no problems, but there's something he won't tell me. Well, a lot of things. He doesn't socialize with anyone. Here's his address and phone number, though he never answers the phone so I wouldn't bother."

Not willing to disbelieve his own luck, Ed took the slip of paper and opened it. The address wasn't too far away, if he remembered the layout of the city correctly. Walking distance for sure. "I can imagine he wouldn't say much," he said softly. "Thank you, Dan. But why help me against company policy?"

"Because I'm worried about him," Dan admitted. "There's just something… off about him. Something dead in his eyes."

_Yeah, I know._ Ed nodded and shook the younger man's hand. "Well, thanks. I doubt he'll thank you, but as family, you can't know how much this means."

It didn't take long to walk the few short blocks to a ramshackle apartment complex in a neighborhood Ed wasn't sure he'd have wanted to walk through except in broad daylight. Urey's apartment was up two flights of questionable stairs, and at the end of a long hallway. Ed ignored the cockroach in the hallway.

The apartment labeled G4 had a door with peeling green paint, and sat slightly askew on its hinges. Ed knocked, but after a few minutes of no response, clapped his hands together and used alchemy to jimmy the lock. Once the door was open, he fixed it and went inside.

There was no one home, unless Ed wanted to count more roaches. It was tiny apartment; only two rooms, with a kitchenette on one wall of the first, the bed on the other, and a tiny bathroom off to one side. The bed had a blanket, and a lumpy mattress, but no sheets, and the dingy laminate table held stacks of papers, books, empty cartons, and the overflowing trash can sat underneath it, holding old take-out containers and the occasional brown bottle.

Even in utter squalor, there were books. Ed shook his head, and went over to the table, where he started sifting through the books and scribbled notes.

Almost immediately his blood ran cold. Some of these notes were in his own hand. Half of the other sheets were circles of varying types and degrees, but all of them were variants on a very specific set of circles. _Damn it, Urey. _Ed felt a mix of shock and fury flood his system. _I thought you weren't stupid enough to try human transmutation!_

The door creaked, and Ed turned.

The young man in the doorway stared at him, bleary eyed and disbelieving, over an armload of paper sacks, which seemed to hold a meager mix of groceries, take-out food, and a couple of books in a sack.

It was Urey, but Ed was surprised Silvia had recognized him, worn thin to little but bone, hallow-cheeked and ill looking, bloodshot eyes and dark circles. "What…" Urey asked then cleared his throat. "What are you doing here?"

In a moment, Ed had let his fury take him, and he strode across the room, shoving a handful of papers in Urey's face. "_Human Transmutation!_ Are you insane?" he went off on his grandson with months of pent up fury. "You can't bring her back, Urey! I thought you understood this. No one can come back. It's taboo for a reason. You want to create a homunculus? You want to ruin any chance you have at having a normal life? It's not too late! Cayla wouldn't want it to be like this. I have half a mind to-"

"Grandpa," Urey spoke the word softly, but his expression showed no anger, merely frustration.

"-drag you home where I-"

"Grandpa!"

Ed stopped. "Well? Explain this in a way that doesn't make me want to kick your ass!"

Urey set down the bags on the table. "I'm not trying to bring her back, Grandpa."

Unsure what to make of that, Ed gestured around the room. "Then what's all this for?"  
"I… I just want to go to her."

Dismay and horror filled him in equal measure as Ed took in what Urey meant. Urey wanted to throw _himself_ through the portal… "You can't do that!"

"Why not?" Urey asked quietly. "It's my life."

"It doesn't work that way," Ed objected.

"How do you know?"

Ed sighed, the impetus to yell gone in the face of a heartbroken man. "Because I've been through the portal. On the other side,_ if_ you make it, is the other world. I've told you that. Going there would do nothing for you. If you stayed inside, you'd be trapped. Souls don't get to move on from the gate."

Urey shook his head and reached for his stack of notes. "I may have figured out how to do it differently."

Edward reached out and stayed his hand. "Urey, Cayla's _gone._ And I'm not going to let you commit suicide with alchemy. Only you probably wouldn't die. You'd be trapped, or sent through. Either way you won't find what you're looking for, and you have far more chance of finding something worse."

Urey stared at him and the seconds dragged into minutes. Through his eyes, Ed could see the war going on in his grandson; despair, denial, self-hatred. He knew it too well, but he let Urey battle it. He had to. He couldn't keep going like this, and Ed wasn't about to let him just throw everything away. Finally, Urey began to quiver, and he collapsed, dropping into a rickety chair that creaked dangerously. His shoulders shook. "I can't do this, Grandpa." The words came out in a hoarse whisper.

"What, live?" Edward asked. "I know it feels hopeless, Urey. Losing someone you love is painful. It's always painful. But you can't give up."

"Too late."

Irritation flashed. "Then why are you still here?" Ed asked harshly.

"What?" Urey looked up at him, startled.

"If you've given up, then why do you still work every day? Why do you bother renting an apartment? Why eat? Why sleep? If you really wanted to die than you'd have done it already." Ed picked up one of the empty liquor bottles on the table. "You're hurting, and you're depressed. That means you're still alive. It's only when you hurt so much you go numb that you need to worry."

"Grandpa I…"

"Why don't you come home, Urey? We miss you, and everyone's worried." He took the chance the boy might be listening. He seemed to be. Ed could hope. "Your parents are going crazy without you, not knowing where you are, and raising Yurian."

Urey hesitated, then shook his head. "I'm not ready."

Ed snorted. "If you wait until you're ready your son will be in college."

That seemed to strike a nerve. For several seconds, Urey stared down at his hands. "How… how is he?"

"Nine months of giggling joy," Ed replied, his expression softening. "He's a great kid. I bet he misses you too."

"How can you miss someone you barely know?" Urey jerked to his feet and stumbled towards the ancient little refrigerator. He opened the door and reached for the nearest bottle.

Ed followed and reached out, his hand resting on top of the bottle. "Because you love him and because until he was born, _you_ were the one who took care of his mother, who loved her, and who loved him most. That means something, even if a baby can't understand it. He's your son, Urey. You'll regret it if you miss out on his life."

"How do you know?"

Ed locked eyes with his grandson. "Because my father regretted it. Because I regret every pain I've ever caused my children; my whole family. No one wants to force you into anything too soon, but you're missing out on what could be wonderful times for you both. Running away does nothing but cause pain for him and for you."

Urey tugged the bottle away from Ed. "I'm no kind of a father. He'd be better off with Art, or Mom and Dad, or even you and Granny."

"You're already a father; How good you are at it remains to be seen." Ed stepped back. "I've said a lot. Think about it. Can I visit tomorrow?"

Urey didn't look at him for a long time. "Yeah, I guess so. Where are you staying?"

"A hotel downtown." Ed snatched up the pile of alchemy notes on the table, books and sketches and all and dumped them in a couple of empty sacks as he headed for the door. "I'll be keeping these. Oh, and Urey, eat something real. You look malnourished."

That elicited a short, dry laugh. "I never thought I'd hear that."


	6. Chapter 6

**January 6****th****, 1980**

Edward spent the next three days going over and pestering Urey. He couldn't interrupt him at work. Or at least, he decided against it. Urey was at least _going_ to work, and when he was there he was sober, productive, and not risking his life with dangerous alchemy. Ed had sorted out all of the alchemical information Urey had acquired and, perhaps against his better judgment, actually read through Urey's new research notes.

He was getting ready to head over when the phone rang in the hotel. It was Winry. "Your voice is balm for the soul," Ed commented, settling back down on the bed.

"You're so poetic when you miss me," Winry said softly over the phone. "How's Urey? Any progress?"

"I haven't talked him into coming home yet," Ed admitted with frustration. "He can't do anything. I've still got his research and all of his materials. I don't think he'd dare try anything without them. He doesn't actually have a finished equation _or_ a perfect circle and he knows it."

"I can't believe he wanted to try and send himself _after_ her," Winry said, her voice echoing the pain Ed felt thinking about it.

"At least I got here in time," Ed agreed. "And I'm not giving it back. I'll burn anything that should never see the light of day again." He had once thought that the danger in knowledge was in how you used it, but over the years he had come to understand that there was some knowledge that just shouldn't be encouraged.

"How much longer are you staying?" Winry asked.

"I don't know," Ed admitted, sighing heavily. "I could talk myself blue in the face and it might not make a difference, but I think he's listening. He's not in good shape, and he won't talk to me, but I think he's got stomach issues. He reminds me of a guy with stomach ulcers." He still remembered that particular malady. It was one he avoided.

"Will he see a doctor?"

"I doubt he could afford one on his salary," Ed said. He hadn't told Winry the depth of squalor Urey's apartment was in, though Ed had taken a few steps to actually clean it up while Urey was at work. He had taken out the trash, washed what few dishes were there, gotten rid of the glass bottles, and –using alchemy instead of bothering with a Laundromat- he had cleaned what few linens and towels Urey had picked up, apparently second-hand.

"What if he won't come home?"

"Then…we let him be." Ed didn't like that answer, but it was the best one he had come up with. "I'll leave him the money for a doctor, and we'll just have to not push. Not if we don't want him to run off again now that we've found him." If Urey vanished again, Ed thought it might just break Cassie, and possibly Aldon. "As long as we know where he is, and he doesn't do anything stupid, it's something and we have a shot at talking him around."

"But how can we sure he won't do something stupid?"

She had to ask the hard questions. Ed shrugged. "I really wish I knew."

* * *

It was all gone. Urey looked at his grandfather across the little table in his apartment. "You really did it?"

Ed nodded. "It's all destroyed. Every bit of it. But I did read it, Urey, and I'm telling you, it wasn't possible. All it would have done is backfired, and you'd have been maimed, and bleeding, but what you want… it really isn't possible."

If he said he'd read it, than he had. Urey knew his grandfather might cheat at cards, but he wouldn't lie about something that important. His drive for the past few months, his hope… it was gone. Just as Cayla was gone. But he was here, alive, and stuck. He had thought about ending it the night she died…but he couldn't do that. He had known that dying wouldn't do any good. But if he could find a way, somehow, a slim chance, of getting to her without bringing her back…

A foolish theory, flawed, and doomed to fail. "And you're going home."

Ed nodded, and looked at the envelope between them on the table. "That's enough for you to see a doctor, and get some real food in here. You look like crap, and the way you're going, you'll find yourself with worse than ulcers. If you want to be left alone, well, that's your business. I think you're an idiot, but we all know how much my opinion seems to count for anything here. I'm just the expert on screwing up." He stood up. "Use it to help yourself, Urey. Get better. Move on. Do what you need to do. But give up on the research, and damn it, drink water once in a while."

Then Ed was up and moving towards the door.

Stunned, Urey stared at the table for several seconds before he found himself on his feet. "Grandpa…I…"

Ed stopped, and looked over his shoulder.

Urey sighed. "Thanks."

He saw a flicker of disappointment in Ed's eyes. "You're welcome. I mean it."

**January 8****th****, 1980**

No one met Ed at the train station. He felt mildly annoyed as he trudged the familiar road up towards the house. Where was everyone? He had phoned and told them when he would be arriving. Yet here he was, walking alone on a cold winter day.

He stopped feeling sorry for himself as he reached the first drive that belonged to a house in the family, which was Reichart and Deanna's, and glanced up the hill. He could see Winry standing in the window, then she moved, and Aldon came into view.

It only took Ed a moment to realize why he had been forgotten, and a slightly relieved laugh bubbled out of him. Relieved, not because he had really worried about it, but because he was coming home to, hopefully, good news.

"So am I too late?" he asked without any other hellos as he opened the door and walked inside.

"Ed!" Winry was in his arms in a moment, holding him tightly. Ed returned the enthusiastic hug. "No, I'd say you have wonderful timing. Deanna's just about finished getting cleaned up. The baby's here."

"And the name?" Ed asked with a grin.

"Hrafn," said Aldon.  
"Bless you," Ed snickered. "Where'd they get that one?"

"One of Deanna's grandfathers," Winry smiled.

"Well another baby, another boy." Ed straightened up and looked at his son. "Looks like Art's taken after you in this too."

"Hopefully he'll be smart enough to stop," Aldon said, sounding mildly exasperated and pleased at the same time.

"Don't count on it," Winry said. "I'm pretty sure Deanna wants another girl."

"How was your trip?" Aldon asked then. He didn't have to point out Urey wasn't with him.

"Productive," Ed replied. He had told Winry almost everything over the phone already. "We can hope. I think, at least, he was listening."

"Well that's more than I thought he'd do," Aldon admitted. "Thanks, Dad. Hopefully, it'll be enough."

**February 3****rd****, 1980**

January started out mildly hopeful, but with each passing day, that hoped dimmed again. Urey did not call, nor did he show up at anyone's door. Everyone tried to go on with life without the feeling of waiting. There was, at least, the mild relief in knowing he was alive.

"Do we have to do this?" Ed grumbled the morning of his birthday as he watched Winry in the kitchen.

"What, you don't want cake?" Winry asked with a look that said she clearly didn't believe it.

"It's not the cake," Ed replied as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "It's the number."

"You didn't complain so much last year." Winry kissed him on the cheek and went back to baking.

"No one would have let me get away with not having a party last year," Ed pointed out. Last year, he and Winry had both turned eighty. Eighty-one was just _even older._

"Who was the one who used to say each birthday was worth celebrating?" Winry teased him.

"I'm glad to still be alive. That doesn't mean I want to contemplate just how old I really am." He would much rather count the fifty-six years they had been married than the full run of his life.

"Good. Then instead of being a grumpy old man, why don't you take Mal for a walk. Your dog is getting restless."

Ed turned and looked at the massive white fur ball standing at the door, wagging his fluffy tail hopefully. He grinned. "All right. Come on, hairball. Let's go."

It was a bit too cold for Ed to take a really long walk with the dog. His auto-mail ports ached, despite being a good boy and taking his medicine before he left. Still, they took the winding route, over the hills and frosty ground, breath steaming in front of their faces. Mal paused for several minutes to look at a nearby flock of sheep, before following Ed down into town.

Mal sat patiently outside stores while Ed stopped for a paper and a hot cup of tea, dropped by the post office, and then stopped at the pet store and got Mal a treat for behaving himself on the street. Not that anyone would have messed with Ed's dog, and Mal was known all around Resembool as friendly.

When they finished in town, Ed headed back towards the house on the more direct route on the road. The exertion actually felt good, though the aching began to get to him. As he passed Reichart's house and the Rockbell house he glanced up the hill to see if anyone was actually home. He doubted it. Ted and Callie should be at school, Aldon and Cassie would be at work. Though lights looked to be on up at Reichart's. On a whim, Ed turned up the drive. He wouldn't mind saying hi to his adorable great-grandkids on the way home, even if he would see them later.

Deanna met him at the door with a smile, and little Hrafn in her arms. "Happy Birthday, Edward."

Ed smiled. "Thanks, Deanna. You don't mind if I thaw out and say hi at the same time do you?"

"Of course not," she chuckled. "We're just having a creative morning."

"Creative?" Ed looked curious. He knew Deanna had Yurian over, and Cailean was still too young for school, even though Rhiana was in first grade and Owen in kindergarten now.

"Craft projects for little hands." Deanna showed him to the dining table where Cailean was painting with watercolors on a piece of paper speckled with salt and glue and glitter. It made all sorts of interesting patterns, especially where the salt and the paint mixed. Mal followed quietly.

Yurian, safely in a high chair, was giggling and eating a small scattering of dry oat cereal. A smear of blue across his nose and an empty bowl spoke of a recent snack of blueberries in hot cereal.

"This looks like fun." Ed leaned over Cailean and looked at his artwork. "Wow, you're good at this."

Cailean grinned. "Yeah? It's a horse!"

Ed looked at the red and blue and green and salted areas where the salt moved and sucked up half the color, and chuckled. "Sure. That's a great horse." If he looked hard enough, he saw a splotch that looked like it might have ears and a tail. Mal nosed in and whuffed quietly. "Mal likes it too."

"Would you like something, Ed?" Deanna offered. "We've just finished breakfast, but I have cereal left, or I know Reichart left coffee in the pot."

"Coffee would be great. Here let me hold him for a bit," Ed offered his arms, and was rewarded with a handful of sleepy one-month-old. "Hey, kiddo." Hrafn yawned and settled right back to sleep. "Well, nice to know I'm exciting," Ed chuckled softly.

Deanna smiled as she poured him a cup of coffee and added cream and sugar. "The only thing he gets excited about so far is meal time."

"Sounds like par for the course," Ed chuckled. "Meal time has always been a favorite in our family."

"Without exception," Deanna set the cup down on the table as Ed settled into a comfortable chair. "Yurian loves it."

"I've noticed." Ed looked over at the ten month old. He still looked a lot like Urey, save the eyes, and Ed had noticed that Yurian was more like the other boys in the family, meaning he loved to eat, but he wasn't as chunky a baby as Urey had been. _Cayla's influence I'd bet._ "It's funny, I never could have imagined our family would grow so big," his voice softened as he stroked Hrafn's cheek with one finger. "It amazes me sometimes that we've gained so much."

"It's because you and Al and Winry have worked so hard to shape and support our family. Everyone deserves a family that loves them as much as this one does."

Her words were the best present Ed thought he could have gotten today.

* * *

Winry was glad to see Edward in a good mood when he and Mal returned from their walk. He joined her in the kitchen and they spent the afternoon cooking together, making all his favorites. Winry didn't even smack him hard with the spoon when he stole tastes of everything… not hard. Besides, Ed had learned how to dodge over the years.

Everything was ready by dinner time, when everyone descended on the house from their various corners and activities and jobs.

"Happy Birthday, Grandpa," Callie presented him with a card, a wrapped present, and a kiss on the cheek.

"Should I be jealous?" Winry teased him softly as Ed opened the package.

Ed laughed. "Of course not," he whispered. "You know I prefer blonds."

Callie had painted Ed a small oil painting of Mal, which Winry thought captured the dog's gentle personality, and amusing smile, perfectly.

Ed exclaimed his evident pleasure over the picture, and the smattering of other presents, which he opened between the serving of dinner and the period of digestion needed before they tackled the rich chocolate cake. Winry suspected that the kids, and most of the guys, would have been happy to dig right in.

The doorbell rang just as Winry started cutting the cake.

"I'll get it," Deanna offered, heading for the door with Hrafn asleep on her shoulder.

Winry wondered if it might be a neighbor, or someone looking for Aldon, which happened fairly regularly.

She stopped wondering when Deanna opened the door, and silhouetted in the dark, a lean figure stood, startled, on the steps. For a moment, Winry's hands trembled.

Cassie was on her feet, and in moments had crossed the distance between the table and the young man in the entry. "Urey!" she tackled him, nearly taking him backwards with the force of a mother's hug.

* * *

Urey hadn't expected to have the breath knocked out of him. He hadn't even been expected a welcome response. Momentarily stunned, he hugged his mother back mostly on instinct. "I'm… home," he said, unnecessarily he was sure as he looked around, taking in the fact that everyone was here. He'd expected that, since the other two houses were dark, but he had forgotten it was Grandpa Ed's birthday.

His mother was crying, even as she looked up at him with first a scowl, then a smile. "Of course you are, Urey. Of course. But look at you," and the frown was back, a furrow of worry. "You're half starved! Come in here right now and sit down and have some dinner. Have you eaten?" And she was chivvying away. Urey let himself be led into the room.

"I did," Urey replied, mostly honest. He hadn't eaten much on the train, his stomach was still tender. "But I'm not really—"

"Don't try and tell me you're not hungry." His mother propelled him towards the table. Urey felt his cheeks flush. "And I know about that. Now sit down and I'll get you a bowl of stew. It's about as gentle as you'll find." As his mother hustled into the kitchen, Urey found himself looking at everyone else, who were watching him, almost expectantly.

Urey wasn't sure where to begin. He still wasn't entirely sure what he was doing here, other than ever since Grandpa had appeared like a whirlwind in South City, destroyed his illusions, and injected harsh reality back into his life, he hadn't been able to settle back into obscurity, to let his mind go numb. He had started thinking about home, and other things. But what to say, now that he was here, standing there after he'd run off for months… he wasn't sure.

His father saved him an awkward moment, by coming forward and hugging him so tightly Urey thought his ribs might break. "Welcome home, son," he whispered, his voice laden with emotion. "I'm glad you're back."

Over his father's shoulder, Urey could see Grandpa grinning. Other people began moving, and as soon as his father stepped back, Urey found himself thumped on the back by Reichart, whose hug rivaled their father's for strength. Ted's was surprisingly as strong, his arms almost bars of iron, though he didn't squeeze as hard. Urey wondered just how hard his youngest brother had been working out to achieve that.

Everyone looked different, even as much as things were the same. It felt as if he had been gone for years instead of months. They treated him as if he was back from the grave… almost. Urey was used to people in his family dodging that fate. Still, he had expected them to be madder. "I thought you'd be furious," he admitted. The words slipped out as Grandpa Ed and Grandma Winry got their hugs.

"We were," Grandpa said. "But that's because we worry. I'm glad to see your ears still work."

"And your mouth, now let's see about the rest of you." His mother came out of the kitchen with a heaping bowl of stew and thick slice of buttered bread. "Now sit, and eat this all down."

Urey's stomach growled, even though he cringed at the thought of a tender stomach later. It was healing –Grandpa had been right about needing a doctor, of course- but his insides were not as sturdy as they had been. Still, the smell was better than he expected, and it taunted him. "Yes, Mom." He turned to sit down at the table-

-and froze as a pair of big, pale blue eyes looked up at him from a little boy in Callie's arms; a boy he didn't recognize at first. The baby in Deanna's arms was too young to be Yurian; intellectually, he knew that, but to stare into the eyes of his wife, right there on that little boy…. Eyes that were curious, but unafraid, and there was no condemnation in them, however much he thought maybe there should have been.

"Looks like you, doesn't he?" Grandma Winry commented gently from beside him.

Urey shook his head slowly. "No… he doesn't." _He looks like Cayla. _He swallowed deeply, and buried the hurt that tried to overwhelm him. Instead, he sat down at the table before his knees gave way, and let his mother put the food down in front of him.

But Callie wasn't done with him. "You want to hold him?" she offered.

Urey wanted to say no. He was sure if he did, he'd fall right to pieces, but everyone was watching him, and after the hell he had given them before he left, he didn't have it in him to do it again. "All right."

"Here you go," Callie smiled at her nephew as she offered him to Urey, settling the boy down on his lap and guiding Urey's arms so they held him properly. "Say hi to your daddy, Yurian."

Urey looked down at the baby. He had grown so much; without the eyes, Urey wouldn't have known him for his own.

Yurian looked back up at him for a moment, then his nose wrinkled, his eyes filled with tears, and he started wailing.

Urey panicked. "What did I do?" he asked helplessly as he tried to ease the boy. He tried bouncing his knee a little, but Yurian's wails grew louder. He didn't want to hurt the little guy but he was lost.

"It's fine," his mother assured him, taking Yurian into her arms and cradling him against her shoulder. In moments the wails had softened to soft sobs, then hiccups. "Shhh, there, there. It's okay."

"What's wrong?" Urey asked, though he thought he knew the answer. _He doesn't like me._

"Oh, he's just tired, and you're new to him," Cassie explained calmly, though Urey wondered if she wasn't trying to convince herself as well as him. "Give him time."

_What you mean, Mom, is he doesn't remember me because I wasn't here._ Perhaps that wasn't fair. He had been expecting chastisement and anger and disappointment, despite his grandfather's words the month before. "Sure," he said as he picked up the spoon and started eating the stew she had brought him. "I'm sure that's it."

* * *

Edward stood with Winry outside the second story guest room that Urey had claimed for the night. He hadn't wanted to go back to the other house immediately, and no one had wanted to argue with him, not even Cassie. The healing process had begun, it seemed, and they wanted to give it time, to be positive and helpful.

The rest of the party had been pleasant and even more cheerful after those awkward minutes. Urey was back, however emotionally scarred, and that mended a space in their hearts and homes that no one had wanted to spend too much time poking at before. To Ed, having Urey home was the best present of all.

Urey had eaten everything his mother put in front of him without any words of complaint, and he had spoken little, though he had acknowledged questions, responded with answers, and seemed all right with small talk as long as it didn't turn to anything serious.

Afterwards he had crawled into the shower, nearly running them out of hot water before he crawled into bed. Which was how Ed had come to feel the urge to poke his nose in, almost to be sure he wasn't hallucinating. Winry caught him at it. "You too?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"Yeah." Ed closed the door again. "He actually looks better than he did when I found him."

Winry shivered slightly, sidling up close to him as they turned and headed for their bedroom. "He looks like he's aged twenty years. Or maybe he just feels like it."

"Inside, he probably has." Ed pulled her close, one arm comfortingly around Winry's shoulders. "But he did what I asked; he got a doctor, he looked like he's actually eating something. And he's here now." _And he showed up sober._ He was grateful for that. He hadn't mentioned that part of his discovery to Winry in any detail. It would have only upset her more. "Yurian will get to know him, and eventually maybe he'll be ready to live under the same roof with his son, and raise him himself."

"You're right," Winry smiled, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "Finally, things are off to a start."

* * *

_Author's Note: 9/17/2013 Finis! *Sniffs into a tissue* So much drama in the family lately. First Ian, now Urey... is it over? Nah, we've got more drama coming! New story starts next week. *cue the dramatic tragic music* _


End file.
